


respite

by luckyday



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22333654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckyday/pseuds/luckyday
Summary: Minho doesn't handle the cold very well. Jisung is an affectionate annoyance. Together they fend off some of the winter chill.-Or, the one where two sleepy boyfriends cuddle.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 37
Kudos: 539





	respite

**Author's Note:**

> what it says on the tin. all my minsung fics have been really long and i just wanted to write something short and simple, so.... sleepy cuddly boyfriends.

Minho’s dreams always tend to run into a sort of strange self-indulgent area when he falls asleep with the heat blasting for some reason. He couldn’t even begin to explain why, but there’s just something about being toasty to the point of it bordering on too much that makes his dreams go a little bit crazy. 

He’s not complaining. 

However, he might be complaining a _little_ bit when he’s roused from his fever dream of his favorite boy with kitty ears by the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing. 

He doesn’t bother opening his eyes as he hears the rustle of fabric as someone takes off what he guesses is a hoodie and drops it to the floor, instead throwing an arm over his eyes and trying to decide between clinging to the quickly dissipating images of Jisung as a catboy or focusing on the other person in his room. 

It doesn’t really matter what he decides on, it turns out, because they make the choice for him. 

A weight settles on top of him, knees on either side of his hips. 

“Jisung,” Minho murmurs without uncovering his eyes, reaching up to place his other hand on the familiar thigh on the left of his body. The fabric is a cold, slightly scratchy texture that he’d guess is the pair of jeans Jisung wears a lot these days. (Maybe too much, given the way Minho has to nag him about doing his laundry because of how badly he procrastinates it.) 

“You don’t know that,” his boyfriend says, and with that, he lets the full weight of his body press down onto Minho, chest to chest. When he tucks his head under Minho’s chin, Jisung’s cheek rubs against the exposed part of Minho’s collarbone and makes him shudder from the icy press of skin against skin, a shock compared to the cozy heat of Minho’s room. When Jisung speaks, his breath is a warm contrast to his chilly skin. “I could be a burglar. You can’t see me.” 

“You’re an awfully cuddly burglar then.” Minho’s hand drifts down to where Jisung’s knee is bent, rubbing circles over it in a way that makes Jisung sigh contentedly. 

“Who could blame me? It’s freezing out there.” Jisung presses closer to him, seemingly trying to make his point by shoving his face against Minho’s neck even more. Minho gasps as the ice-cold tip of Jisung’s nose prods against his skin. 

Finally moving his arm away from his eyes, he cranes his neck away from the shivering boy and tries to push Jisung’s face away from him. Although he’s usually stronger than Jisung, he’s half asleep and Jisung is _very_ insistent on sticking his cold face against him. “I can tell, you brat! Stop!” 

“Minho!” Jisung whines, pushing back against him and choosing instead to rub his cheek against Minho’s— the one that wasn’t slightly warmed against Minho’s skin and is still incredibly cold, much to Minho’s displeasure. Minho yelps, wiggling underneath Jisung as the other boy continues to hold him in place _and_ hold him hostage while he’s used as a hot pack. “I’m cold!” 

“So go warm yourself up somewhere that isn’t on me!” 

“No,” Jisung says firmly. “You’re my boyfriend, it’s your job to make me warm.” 

“It’s not my job to do anything,” Minho says with a huff, and Jisung simply cuddles closer, pressing his body down against Minho’s even more like he’s trying to mold himself to Minho. 

“Okay, well you wanna make me happy, right?” Jisung presses a kiss to Minho’s jaw with cold lips, making Minho shiver. “I’m not happy at all when I’m cold. Being warm makes me happy! You make me happy!” 

Minho struggles for a few seconds longer before he gives in with a sigh, going limp underneath his boyfriend. “Fine, fine! You win. I’m too tired to fight.” 

“Like you could ever say no to me anyways,” Jisung says sweetly. 

Minho rolls his eyes even though he knows Jisung can’t see it, not even bothering with a response. He’s… kind of right, especially when he’s sleepy, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. They both know it’s true anyway, why does he have to say it? 

They lay there silently for a few minutes, Jisung warming himself on Minho like a cat in a patch of sunlight. He tucks his face against Minho’s neck, his hands sliding beneath Minho’s shirt and settling against the sensitive skin of his sides. It’s not very pleasant, but he resigns himself to his fate. Making the best of it, Minho loops his arms around Jisung, holding him quietly. 

After a while, Minho asks in a soft voice, “How was work?” 

“Long,” Jisung grumbles, breath warm. Everything about him is warmer now. “Nothing bad happened or anything it was just… a really long day and I wanted to come home.” 

Minho hums in response, tightening his arms around Jisung a little bit. “Tired?” 

“Very.” Jisung sighs, trying to press his face against’s Minho’s neck even more. It feels like he’s trying to burrow down. 

Minho lets his arms fall off to the side, one of his hands rising to run across Jisung’s knee and the fabric of his jeans. “Well, get undressed and come to bed then. You woke me up from a really good dream, I’d like to go back to it quickly.” 

Jisung laughs, clumsily climbing off of Minho. Just like Minho suspected: if he didn’t say something Jisung probably would’ve fallen asleep on top of him fully dressed. “What were you dreaming about?” 

Minho watches in amusement as Jisung shimmies out of his jeans, kicking them to the floor before peeling off his socks. His eyes linger on the muscles of Jisung’s back as he pulls his shirt off, appreciating how nice he looks as he stretches. 

“Catboys,” Minho says simply as Jisung picks up his clothes and tosses them in the direction of Minho’s dirty clothes basket. Who knows if he actually makes it— that’s a problem for morning Minho and Jisung. 

Jisung snorts, turning to look at Minho. “Was I one of them?” 

“The only one,” Minho confirms sweetly. “My pretty kitty.” 

“I can’t tell if it was a dirty dream or a cute one. With you, it feels like it could go either way.” Jisung gestures to Minho’s drawers. “Can I borrow a shirt?” 

“Go ahead,” Minho says without sparing a second thought. “And I couldn’t tell you what it was because you interrupted it before anything happened.” 

Jisung laughs breathily as he tugs one of Minho’s shirts on— an older one, navy. It’s big on Minho so it’s even bigger on Jisung, his boyfriend’s frame much slimmer than his. It falls just short of the bottom of his boxers. “Sorry to ruin your dream about your catboy boyfriend.” 

“You should be,” Minho says, squinting in the darkness to appraise his boyfriend in his clothes. He looks nice. He always does, but Jisung in his shirts… yeah, that’s the best kind of look on Jisung. By far. 

“You know,” Jisung says as he sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at Minho with a fond smile, “it’s probably not the best financial choice to run the heat so hard that you can’t even stand to be under the covers in winter.” 

“It’s not my fault that my joints hurt when it’s cold! I’m old, I’m brittle, my bones ache, and I just want to be warm and toasty,” Minho’s voice goes higher and higher with every word until it’s just a childish whine. 

Jisung snorts. “Like a marshmallow?” 

“Exactly,” Minho says, raising his hand to give his boyfriend a thumbs up. Jisung just shakes his head, smile growing wider. 

“Get under the covers, old man,” Jisung says with a laugh, getting to his feet again and making the walk over to the space heater. Minho watches as he crouches down next to it, fiddling with the dial. “I’m turning it down to the low setting so we can actually use the blankets.” 

“If I get cold you’re the one who has to get out of bed and turn the heat back up,” Minho warns even as he shifts, pulling the covers out from under him and sliding into bed. 

He holds the blanket up expectantly, shivering as the heat that’s been blasting for the past couple of hours resides and the chill that drove him to turn it up that high in the first place sweeps through his bedroom upsettingly fast. 

“You’ll be fine. You’re just going to end up using me as your personal heater anyways,” Jisung says as he stands up, shaking his head again. 

“Get your ass over here before I freeze to death,” Minho complains. 

“Dramatic,” Jisung says fondly as he crawls into bed with him. 

“And besides, you’re one to talk about being used as a personal heater,” Minho says, throwing the blanket over Jisung’s body before he’s even completely laying down. Impatiently, he wraps an arm around Jisung’s little waist and yanks him closer, earning a surprised yelp from his boyfriend. 

Jisung lets himself be manhandled with no resistance, limbs shifting to adjust to a more comfortable position as Minho molds himself to the curve of Jisung’s body, arm tightening around Jisung’s middle and holding him in place. “I wasn’t complaining,” he says, “I was just telling you I knew you were going to use me like one. Plus I just came in from outside where it was _snowing_. This room is a sauna, Minho— and I didn’t even turn the heat off all the way.” 

Instead of dignifying that mostly reasonable comment with a response, Minho simply tosses one of his legs over Jisung to hold him even closer. As soon as Jisung’s locked into his grasp, Minho kisses the corner of Jisung’s mouth. 

Jisung giggles quietly, prompting Minho to kiss him there again. Another kiss lands against the fullness of Jisung’s cheek— and another on the curve of Jisung’s jaw. 

“I thought you were cold and sleepy,” Jisung murmurs as Minho presses another kiss to the soft skin of his throat. 

“I am,” Minho says, and Jisung shudders in his arms at the feeling of Minho’s breath hot against his neck. He has absolutely no energy to do anything more than kiss his boyfriend right now, his lips against Jisung’s neck the most adventure he has the motivation for right now. “I just haven’t seen you all day and I like when you wear my clothes, that’s all.” 

Jisung’s laugh is breathy and soft. “Well, lucky for you I’ll still be wearing your clothes when we wake up.” 

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Minho says as leaves one more kiss against Jisung’s pulse point. 

Jisung laughs again, louder this time. He reaches up to touch the hand Minho has wrapped around his waist, tangling their fingers together. “Oh? Is that a challenge?” 

“That’s a promise,” Minho tells him. 

He shifts a little, his face hovering over Jisung’s. With a smile, the other boy tilts his head so Minho can kiss him properly, warm mouth to warm mouth. It’s slow, almost lazy. Despite their words, there’s nearly no heat to it, just the gentle slide of their lips against each other. 

He could kiss Jisung like this forever. Not to build up to anything more, not to get him worked up or anything— just to be this close to him, to know that he’s the only one who gets to do this. To kiss him just because it makes him feel nice, not just physically but the embarrassingly fuzzy warm feelings that kissing Jisung stirs inside of him like he’s a lovesick teenager. 

When he finally pulls away, he’s partially on top of Jisung, his boyfriend looking up at him with dark, warm eyes and his lips slightly parted. It makes Minho want to kiss him again. 

“Can I tell you something?” Jisung asks, voice soft as a whisper as he shifts in Minho’s arms so he’s facing him, one of his hands lifting to rest on Minho’s chest and curling into the fabric of the gray shirt he wears. 

Minho blinks in surprise, leaning closer. “What is it?” 

“Come here,” Jisung says, voice quiet as he looks up at him. 

Minho obliges, tilting his head until Jisung’s lips are brushing against his ear, his breath warm. 

Soft as silk, Jisung whispers, “You need chapstick.” 

Minho slides his hand under Jisung’s shirt and presses his fingers into the part of Jisung’s side that’s so ticklish it makes him cry. 

Jisung’s reaction is instant, a choked shriek escaping his mouth— right next to Minho’s ear, which isn’t very pleasant but _is_ worth it— as he squirms underneath Minho’s hand, desperately trying to move away from him. His struggle is futile, Minho’s one leg still tossed over him and trapping him in place with the sturdy muscles he’s built from dancing over the years. No amount of frantic wiggling on Jisung’s part will beat that. 

“You little brat!” Minho says in disbelief, managing to grab hold of both of Jisung’s wrists as he flails about and pinning them down against the bed as he continues his vicious tickle assault. 

“Ah! Minho, truce! _Truce truce truce truce_ — Minho I said truce!” Jisung babbles as Minho continues to work his fingers into the sensitive flesh of Jisung’s sides, tears welling up in his eyes as he pleads for his life. “ _Please please please please_ — Minho please, I love you, I’m sorry, please—” 

“You’re unbelievable,” Minho says, offering his boyfriend mercy as his hand slips out from under Jisung’s shirt and releases his hold on Jisung’s wrists. 

Jisung immediately curls in on himself protectively, trying to shield his sides in case Minho changes his mind and goes back for a second round, blinking rapidly to get rid of his tears. “Baby, I’m so sorry—” 

“Don’t _baby_ me,” Minho says, reaching up to ruffle Jisung’s hair. He whines in response, his fluffy blonde hair covering his eyes. He watches in amusement as Jisung blows it out of his face, looking up at Minho with a downright pitiful look. 

“I’m sorry!” Jisung holds his arms out to Minho, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “I’m sorry! Come back to bed, I’m sleepy!” 

“Menace,” Minho says, the fondness in his voice betraying him. Jisung just smiles up at him shyly, knowing he’s gotten away with it for now. Minho sighs. “I’m tired too, so… you’re lucky.” 

“I’m always lucky when I’m with you,” Jisung says with sugar sweetness, making Minho rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t push it,” Minho tells him, and Jisung immediately drops his arms and rolls back onto his side, ready to resume being cuddled. Cute. 

After a moment of looking down at Jisung, Minho tugs off his shirt. 

Jisung tilts his head back to look at him when he realizes, an eyebrow raised. “Oh. Should I go turn the heater back up if you’re going to take that off? Or should I turn it off all the way if you’re that hot?” 

“No, leave it,” Minho says quickly, blindly tossing his shirt somewhere into the darkness of the room in what he’s pretty sure is the general direction of his dirty clothes basket. 

“God, you’re such a contradiction,” Jisung says with a laugh as Minho slides his arm around him again, pulling the covers back up over the two of them. “You get cold so you blast your heat until you can’t even go under the covers, I turn the heat down so you can use the covers, then you take your shirt off but don’t want me to mess with the heater at all.” 

If Minho’s being honest, it’s not a temperature thing at all. Sure, sometimes he likes to sleep without a shirt even when he’s cold enough to be under the blankets. He gets cold easily but sometimes he needs to regulate how toasty he gets. It happens. But when Jisung sleeps with him, it’s— well. Honestly, it’s embarrassing. 

He likes it when there’s as little between him and Jisung as possible. Not in a sexual way, at least not all the time. He just likes the way it makes him feel to have as much of his skin against Jisung’s as he can get. He likes being _close_ to Jisung, likes the dumb fluttering in his chest whenever he holds him with next to nothing between them. Just the raw warmth of Jisung in his arms. 

“The human body is a contradiction in itself,” Minho says instead because the real reason is horrifically sappy and he’s absolutely not going to admit that out loud. When Jisung simply rolls his eyes in response and shifts back so they’re pressed closer together, Minho lets out a content sigh. Without his shirt, it’s a little less toasty under the blankets, but when he presses against Jisung now he’s able to feel his warmth even more. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” Jisung asks after a while, his voice quiet now. 

“It’s my day off,” Minho tells him. 

“Mine too.” A soft hopefulness colors his voice. “Do you think… we could do something?” 

“Mmm. That would be nice, Jisung.” It would be. They haven’t really had a proper date night in a while. 

“Maybe make dinner? Watch some bad movies? Or some good ones, I don’t know.” 

“Whatever you want,” Minho says, and he’s sleepy enough and calm enough now that he genuinely means it. Whatever Jisung wants, Minho will bend over backwards to do for him. If Jisung wants a full-blown homecooked meal, Minho will cook him one— with some complaining, of course, but it’s just for the sake of complaining. He doesn’t really mind. 

“Okay,” Jisung whispers, seemingly happy. 

“Okay.” Minho presses a soft kiss to Jisung’s earlobe, making him shiver a little bit. 

“Go kiss catboy me,” Jisung says, his thumb tracing circles absently against the skin of Minho’s arm. His own unspoken _I love you_. 

“Maybe I will,” Minho says, tightening his arms around the boy curled against him. _I love you too._

When he finally falls asleep again, he doesn’t dream of kissing a catboy— but he still dreams of kissing Jisung nonetheless, and that’s not a dream he could ever complain about. 

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ twitter: [LlNOHAN](https://twitter.com/LlNOHAN)  
> ☆ curiouscat: [lunarminho](https://curiouscat.me/lunarminho)


End file.
